


Still Lovin' You

by 7_wonders



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: 1984
Genre: 80s craziness, F/M, Smut, Weed Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7_wonders/pseuds/7_wonders
Summary: You’re smoking weed with Xavier in the back of the infamous Vanta-C when things get a little steamy.
Relationships: Xavier Plympton & Reader, Xavier Plympton & You, Xavier Plympton/Reader, Xavier Plympton/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Still Lovin' You

**Author's Note:**

> Posting some more of my fics from Tumblr onto the archive! If you're interested in keeping up with me there, my username is 7-wonders.

To many, the van parked in the back corner of the aerobics studio parking lot would barely warrant a second glance. If somebody were to look again, it was often to chuckle at the license plate proclaiming the van the “Vanta-C,” or to wrinkle their nose in disgust at such a junky old van. It was inconspicuous in all the right ways, which is what made the Vanta-C the perfect place to unwind after class…and sometimes before class.

Xavier, you have to admit, has some of the best weed you’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Luckily for you (and everybody Xavier’s friends with), Xavier believes in sharing his stash, claiming that smoking alone is too depressing for him. At least once a week, some variety of your friend group will pile into Xavier’s van, listen to music, and share a couple of joints. It’s a fun time no matter who’s there with you, but your favorite days are when it’s just you and Xavier in his van.

You’re sitting in the back of Xavier’s van, leaning against the cool seat and allowing the air conditioning to cool you down after a heavy aerobics class. A joint lies beside you, unlit, as you flip through Xavier’s extensive collection of cassette tapes. The man in question leans over the center console, switching out one tape in his cassette player for another. He’s mumbling under his breath as he stretches his lithe arm towards the play button, finally hitting it and starting the tape.

The familiar sounds of Journey’s classic synth music fill the air, and you eagerly bob your head to the rhythm as Xavier sits down opposite you. “Finally, some good music,” you note approvingly.

“What, you don’t like the regular music we play?” He holds out his hand for the joint, striking a lighter and expertly getting it started as he takes a few quick puffs.

“Correction: I don’t like Ray’s music.” You gratefully accept the joint, letting the sweet smoke fill your lungs and watching as it filters above you in delicate shapes. “His idea of a mixtape is just different George Michael songs, and I’m pretty sure I’ll end up cutting my ears off if I have to listen to ‘Faith’ one more time.”

“What do you have against George Michael?” Xavier asks jokingly, watching with hooded blue eyes as you take another hit and hold the smoke deep in your lungs before exhaling through your nose: a trick you had learned from Xavier himself.

“‘Dunno, probably the stupid earring,” you tease, flicking Xavier’s cross earring that’s a direct imitation of George Michael’s.

Xavier whistles lowly, stealing the joint from you and holding it between his slender fingers. “Harsh, (Y/N). I share my stash with you and make you a mixtape, and this is how you repay me?”

“You made me a mix? Is that,“ you point to the speakers at the front of the van, “what this is? My very own mixtape?” You’re laying the teasing on pretty thick, but you can’t help it when you know it makes Xavier’s cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink.

Lately, things have been different between you and Xavier. Not in a bad way, but just in an unexpected way. Ever since the night last winter where you had found him throwing up in some dingy bathroom at a house party, unknown troubles that you didn’t both to ask about sending him straight into the arms of alcohol poisoning, your dynamic had changed.

Suddenly, he wasn’t just Montana’s cocky ex who you only tolerated because all of your other friends adored him. He’s funny, and introspective, and a lot smarter than you originally gave him credit for. You can talk with him for hours about almost anything, although your conversations usually deviated towards music and pop culture. He understood you on a different level than any of your other friends.

He’s also devastatingly handsome, which doesn’t help the small crush you’ve developed on him.

“It’s nothing, really,” Xavier shrugs nonchalantly. “You have a really good taste in music, and I wanted to make something for you to listen to.”

“Thanks, Xav.” You’re touched by this unexpected display of friendship, the man in front of you not really known for doing nice things for people.

Xavier fidgets with his earring before thrusting the joint in your direction, not quite sure what to say to fill the silence. “Here, it’s your turn.”

You both fall quiet as you listen to the music and pass the joint back and forth, your movements getting slower and more languid as the drug begins to take effect. You can feel your veins thrumming with the relaxing heat that begins to spread through you, watching Xavier through the hazy smoke that fills the van.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask quietly, leaning your head back against the side of Xavier’s van.

What Xavier wants to say is that he’s thinking about the way your eyelashes flutter as you try to follow the smoke with your eyes, or how pretty your lips look wrapped around the rolled-up paper. Instead, he plays it safe. “Mmm, just life. Plans for the summer.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes is nearly swallowed whole by his blown-out pupils, giggling at how freaked-out his dilated eyes make him look. Staring at the smooth planes of his face as your fingers tap out the beat to an AC/DC song, an idea starts to form in your mind. Normally, if you weren’t high, you’d never even consider what you’re thinking. Being high, however, silences the part of your brain that reminds you how disastrous your ideas can be.

Flipping the joint so the cherry faces you, you slowly place it between Xavier’s full lips, smirking lazily when his breath hitches at the contact. His eyes are glued to your hand, watching as your fingers linger against the soft skin of his lips. Breathing in deeply, he makes a move of his own when the warm smoke escapes his mouth as he blows it in your face. You stifle a cough, looking away like you didn’t just try to come onto Xavier.

Across from you, Xavier is internally freaking out. Was that unintentional, or were you trying to seduce him like he hopes you were? For his sake, he really hopes that you were attempting to make a move on him.

“Can I try something?” Xavier asks suddenly, making you look down from the ceiling.

“Sure?” Your eyes are pleading with him for answers, but he refuses to budge.

Xavier takes a couple of deep breaths from the joint, filling his lungs with as much smoke as possible. Winking at you, he shuffles forward and places his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

There’s hardly a moment’s hesitation as you eagerly reciprocate the kiss. The smoke travels from Xavier to you as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, giving you no choice but to breathe it in. Your hands, desperate to grab onto something, tangle in Xavier’s beautiful hair. He doesn’t even complain about you messing up his precious locks, instead setting down the joint on a stray ashtray so it doesn’t set the van on fire and wrapping his other hand around your waist so he can lay you down against the floor.

Your back meets with the carpet of his van, and you stare at Xavier through the hazy air in ecstasy as he slides your shirt off of your body. Rolling his hips against yours, you can feel his sizable bulge already through his shorts.

Xavier’s hands, large and veiny, pull your bra down your chest to expose your breasts. “I fuckin’ _knew_ your tits would be gorgeous, even when you’re wearing your workout clothes I just knew.”

He continues to kiss you as his hands explore your body, moaning his approval as your hands start to mimic his actions. His lean body fits perfectly against yours, and you take your time to explore each and every curve of his muscles as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and pulls slightly.

You need more, crave more, and you begin thrusting your legging-clad hips against him to the heavy, slow beat of the song booming from the speakers.

“Fuck, Xav,” you pant from under him, kissing him again. “I want you.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want.”

“Want,” you pause to moan when he begins to suck a hickey against your neck, “want you to fuck me.”

Xavier nods, lifting away from you to allow you to sit up on your elbows so he can unclip your bra. He winks at you as he seems to move in slow motion, kissing you once more and humming along to “Still Loving You.”

“It’s a good thing you like The Scorpions, ‘cause this is a perfect sex song.”

“Actually, there’s no ‘the’ before Scorpions. A lot of people think there is, but the band is just Scorpions.” The words escape before you can even think to stop them, your eyes widening in embarrassment.

“Fuck, it’s so hot that you know random shit like that,” Xavier leans down to kiss you again, fingers playing with the waist of your leggings.

You’re both so wrapped up in each other, the weed and the euphoria of the situation making it almost impossible to focus on anything else, that neither of you notice the door to the van sliding open until an excited squeal has both of you scrambling away from each other. The sunlight filtering in does nothing to reveal who’s standing in front of you at first, the two silhouettes taking a moment to become a smug Montana and an embarrassed Chet. Xavier covers you with his body, but you still grab your shirt and hold it in front of your chest for some semblance of modesty.

“I’m so sorry, guys, I just needed to pick up my gym bag?” Xavier’s eyes flicker to where Chet is pointing, seeing the red, white, and blue gym bag that Chet had asked to stash in the van prior to class. Xavier nods slowly, avoiding eye contact with everybody as he pushes the bag with his foot, allowing Chet to snatch it up.

“Well, I guess we’ll let you two horny lovebirds get back to it,” Montana says gleefully.

“ _‘Tana,_ ” you whine, pleading with her to stop as you wish for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Alright, alright.” She holds up her hands disarmingly, grabbing at the handle of the door and winking at you as she starts to close it. “Wrap it before you tap it, babes!” Montana shouts before the door closes.

Xavier’s only able to mutter a stunned “oh my God” as he stares at the space where his friends occupied only moments ago. Turning to you to make sure you’re okay, he’s momentarily concerned when he finds you with your head in your hands and your shoulders shaking. When he hears your near-hysteric laughter, he can’t help but smile.

“What the fuck just happened?” you gasp out between peals of laughter, tears nearly streaming from your face as you begin to put your bra back on: a sight that makes Xavier worry.

“Y’know, we don’t have to stop just because of a little interruption,” Xavier trails off, placing his hand on yours in an attempt to get things back on track.

“How did that not kill the mood for you?” you chuckle, pushing his hand away and sliding your shirt over your head. “Aw, don’t look so sad! There’ll be another chance for you to score, I’m sure.”

Xavier sighs, picking up the joint and sadly taking a hit. “Fuckin’ Montana.”


End file.
